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LXVIII.

ETON.

L. M.

TO God your voice in anthems raise,
Jehovah's awful name he bears;
In him rejoice, extol his praise
Who rides upon high rolling spheres.
Him, from his empire of the skies
To this low world compassion draws,
The orphan's claim to patronize,
And judge the injur'd widow's cause.
Ascribe ye pow'r to God most high,
Of humble Israel he takes care;
Whose strength from out the dusky sky,
Darts shining terrors through the air.
How dreadful are the sacred courts,
Where God has fix'd his earthly throne;
His strength his feeble saints supports;
To God give praise, and him alone.

LXIX.

WILTSHIRE.

O LORD amidst the raging tide,
Preserve my helpless soul;

My heart is faint, my footsteps slide,
As the dark billows roll.

Lord, for thy tender mercy's sake,
Support my sinking frame;
Redeem my soul, my fetters break,
And put me not to shame.

For thou didst never yet despise
The contrite sinner's prayer;
Thou wilt refresh my longing eyes,

And banish all my care.

When others leave me, thou art near,

My drooping soul to raise;

C. M.

And thou wilt change my grief and fear
To songs of thankful praise.

LXX.

ABRIDGE.

C. M.

WHEN sorrows vex, and foes invade,

My God, I cry to thee;

As thou art still a present aid,

O haste to succour me.

Let shame reward the hope of those,
My helpless soul who spurn;
And let the malice of my foes

To their confusion turn.

Let all who humbly seek thy face
Be joyful in thy name;

And such as love thy saving grace
Thy power and truth proclaim.

To thee my God, the mourner's friend,
For timely help I pray ;

On thee alone my hopes depend;
O Lord make no delay.

LXXI.

WESTON FAVEL.

ALMIGHTY Father of mankind,
Thou dost my hope sustain;

And when the day of trouble comes
I shall not trust in vain.

In early years thou wast my guide,
And of my youth the friend;
And as my days began with thee,
With thee my days shall end.

I know the power in whom I trust,
The arm on which I lean :
Thou wilt my Saviour ever be,
Who hast my Saviour been.

I'll trust thy goodness while I live ;
In death thy name adore;

And after death will sing thy praise,
When time shall be no more.

C. M.

LXXII.

WESTON FAVEL.

HE shall descend like rain that cheers
The meadow's second birth,

C. M.

Or like warm show'rs, whose gentle drops
Refresh the thirsty earth.

In his blest days the just and good
Shall be with favour crown'd;
The happy land shall every where
With endless peace abound.

The mem'ry of his glorious name
Through endless years shall run;
His spotless fame shall shine as bright
And lasting as the sun.

In him the nations of the world
Shall be completely bless'd,
And his unbounded happiness
By every tongue confess'd.

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GOD, my supporter and my hope,
My help for ever near,

Thine arm of mercy held me up,
When sinking in despair.

Were I in heaven without my God,
"Twould be no joy to me;
And while this earth is my abode,
I long for none but thee.

Thy counsels, Lord, shall guide my feet
Through this dark wilderness;

Thine hand conduct me near thy seat,
To dwell before thy face.

C. M.

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WHY hast thou cast us off, O God?

Wilt thou no more return?
O why against thy chosen flock
Does thy fierce anger burn?
Think on thy ancient purchase, Lord,
The land that is thy own;
By thee redeem'd, and Sion's mount,
Where once thy glory shone.
Arise, O God, in our behalf,

Thy cause and ours maintain;
Remember how insulting fools
Each day thy name prophane.

O free thy mourning turtle dove,
By sinful crowds beset?

Nor the assembly of thy poor
For evermore forget.

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THAT thou, O Lord, art ever nigh,
Though veil'd in awful majesty,
Thy mighty works declare:

Thy hand this earthly frame upholds,
Thine eye the universe beholds,
With providential care.

Thou settest up, and pullest down:
The ruler's power, the monarch's crown,
Thy hands alone bestow :

In thee all creatures live and move;
Thou reign'st supreme in heaven above,
And in the earth below.

Great King of kings, and Lord of lords,
Whose hand chastises and rewards,
Thee only we adore :

To thee the voice of praise shall rise,
In hallelujahs to the skies,

Till time shall be no more.

C. M.

P. M.

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I CALL to mind the days of old,
With signal mercy crown'd,

Those famous years of ancient times,

For miracles renown'd.

By night I recollect my songs,

On former triumphs made;

Then search, consult, and ask my heart,
Where's now that wondrous aid?

Can his long-practis'd love forget
Its wonted aids to bring?
Has he in wrath shut up and seal'd
His mercy's healing spring?

I said, my weakness hints these fears:
But I'll my fears disband;

I'll yet remember the Most High,
And years of his right hand.

P. M.

C. M.

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